


Shizaya Oneshots

by Alice (Red_Rosepetals)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, M/M, collection of oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-03-01 00:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13282905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Rosepetals/pseuds/Alice
Summary: A collection of Shizaya oneshots, most of which are angst and sentimental, focusing on either Izaya or Shizuo losing the other in different situations.1: "Izaya should probably stop smoking the damned cigarette clutched between two trembling fingers as if it was his lifeline, but this is one thing he can't let go."2: "He waited, and waited, and waited. Still no one came." (Hanahaki AU)3: “His cigarette falls from his lips, and before he's even thinking about what it is he's doing, he has his phone in his hand and he's calling Shinra, Celty— someone, anyone- who can tell him that it's not true. Izaya can't be dead.” (Continuation of 2, a sequel of sorts)





	1. It Burns Now That He’s Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Tags: heavy angst, sad ending, depressed!izaya, major character death, grief, hurt with some comfort, depression, memories, reminiscing, implied/referenced break up, smoking, lots of smoking, izaya is bad at feelings, funerals, ppl being assholes, rain, alleys, self-hatred, v lowkey implied self-harm, its there but v subtle, distractions, this one hurts me, sorry not sorry, the author regrets nothing, this was supposed to be short, i don’t know the meaning of the word
> 
>  
> 
> Also, this is meant to be disjointed, so sorry if it’s confusing or hard to read.
> 
> XOXO,  
> Alice

Honestly, there's no reason why Izaya shouldn't have known. There's no way he wouldn't have known. He had known, of course, but sometimes it's still nice to pretend.

It still stings deep in his chest as he leans over the bridge railing, staring sullenly at the passing cars, bright lights and all, on the road below.

He shouldn't have let it go.

He refuses to give in to the urge to sob, so he closes his eyes, tries to steady his breathing and takes a drag of the lit cigarette he has pinched between two fingers like its some desperately needed oxygen.

He opens his eyes and glances down when he feels something rub against his leg to find a small cat peering up at him with innocent eyes.

He wishes he could just kick the cat away, but the memories become too painful as they take to the forefront of his thoughts.

***

_"Izaya, look at this one! It looks just like you! Maybe we should get a kitten after all."_

_That never happened._

***

He crouches down, holding out his free hand to the cat, who tentatively rubs against it and purrs quietly, a soft rumble barely audible above the bustle of the city nightlife.

He's a little surprised the cat isn't bothered by the smoke as it tries to clamber into his lap, unsuccessful, until Izaya sits on the ground entirely.

He strokes the cat behind its ears as he thinks, trying to come to terms with things but being wholly unable. It was never that easy.

***

_"I thought I told you I didn't want to see you anymore."_

_But Izaya couldn't stay away._

***

The cat looks up at his face curiously, as though questioning why Izaya seemed so...well, Izaya didn't even want to put words to how he was feeling. His emotions were never his strong suit and maybe that was just part of the problem.

It wasn't his fault—- he wanted to say. Wanted to scream at the people who had given him wary glances that day.

It wasn't his fault—- he wanted to insist. Wanted to make the people understand that it wasn't him who had wanted this.

The cat places a paw on his chest when a muffled sob escaped his lip. The creature cocks its head in question as he brings the cigarette up to his lips and takes another desperate drag.

***

_The day had started off as dreary, with the constant downpour of rain making the sidewalks slick and tempers short. All along the streets people walked with umbrellas, a few cursing when a car drove by too fast and they got splashed with a puddle of runoff. Izaya himself would have preferred to stay in Shinjuku than to make the journey out to Ikebukuro, but duty calls and he was never one to miss work. Even if it meant that he might run into Shizuo._

_It was just a short break in their relationship, he had told himself, he would just have to wait for Shizuo to blow off some steam like always and then it would just be another fight. They'd make up before he even knew it and things would be fine again. He had nothing to worry about._

***

He'd subconsciously started petting the cat with his free hand, needing to focus on something else as a quiet distraction from the turmoil of his thoughts. He should stop doing this to himself, but he can't. Everything is still so fresh in his mind, its still a open wound that both he and others rub salt in until he's cringing in pain and wallowing all the more in self-loathing.

After everything, he'd never hated himself more. He'd never regretted anything more than what he did on that day, which, put as simply and bluntly as possible—- Nothing.

***

_He doesn't know why he stops there, there's no reason to. But he does. Maybe because he notices the red tint to the trickle of rainwater sliding across the ground from an alley to the sidewalk and off the curb. Curiosity killed the cat, or so goes the saying._

_And maybe it didn't kill him— physically- but it sure as hell killed his conscience._

***

There's a short pause in his thoughts when his eyes flit down to the cat again, and Izaya finally allows himself to note how the cat looked like the one at the adoption center, a fluff ball of silky black fur and amber-brown eyes. He needs the small distractions to keep him sane, to be able to continue forcing himself to remember his biggest mistake, his one regret. Just like he clings to the cigarette in his hand even though he dislikes the smell, doesn't like the way it burns his throat and lungs but he's close to used to it by now. Even if he wanted to stop, he doesn't think he could.

***

_It's not the first time he's wandered into a dark alley late in the afternoon, nor is the first time he's ever encountered someone bleeding their life out in one._

_Just not Shizuo. Never Shizuo._

_He's still alive, at the least, but mercy only ever goes so far._

_When they make eye contact, the burning need to look away sears through Izaya, but he can't look away from the fading brown eyes of Shizuo. He's the only person he could never look away from._

***

The cat has laid down in his lap calmly and he's lighting another cigarette now, not sure how many that makes since he's been here because he hasn't been counting. He has, however, been counting the days since he last saw Shizuo.

All in all, it's been too long. But Izaya doesn't have the right to join him.

***

_"Izaya." The name sounds foreign coming from Shizuo, and Izaya ignores the way his heart twinges at both the name and the trouble the blonde has saying it. He wishes the blonde wouldn't even bother trying to talk. Talking won't save him now._

_It's probably too late. Izaya is always too late._

***

He hears a sigh and when he looks up, he's met with the sight of a face he hasn't seen in weeks. The brunette underground doctor is picking up the cat from his lap before he even realizes, and offering him a hand.

"You're going to catch a cold out here, Izaya." The doctor says, but Izaya knows what he wanted to say instead. Neither of them acknowledge it.

Izaya only stands after taking another drag of the cigarette. Shinra doesn't make another comment.

***

_When Izaya finally comes to his senses, fumbling for his phone to call an ambulance, Shizuo's next words stop him._

_"You're not going to do that," he rasps, sounding tired as he eyes slowly close before opening again. He looks closer to death every second. "You don't get to do that. Not now."_

_"What are you talking about, Shizuo? You're dying!" He sounds more panicked than he intends, he didn't want Shizuo to realize how grave the situation was. Though he probably already knew._

_"'S not necessary," Shizuo rumbles, seemingly fighting to keep his eyes open and fixed on Izaya. "'M better of like this. Better for everyone..."_

_Izaya wants to slap some sense into him, but he feels the need to comfort him and convince him that's not true more._

_But don't you know? Time is never on your side. And what he wanted to say was always the things he never said. He doesn't say or do anything that he wanted to, not even now._

***

Celty is not surprised when Shinra comes back with an extra guest, since this was an expected unexpected guest. But she doesn't know why there's a third guest in the form of a Izaya-cat lookalike.

In the end, she leaves the two friends be as Izaya smokes and Shinra tries talking to him. The cat, unsurprisingly, or maybe it is a little surprising, stays by Izaya's side.

***

_He still had half a mind to call an ambulance but there was too much going on, too many words coming out of Shizuo's mouth even though he's lying in a dark alley in a pool of his own blood on a rainy day._

_Izaya knows deep down this is what Shizuo wanted, now, at least. When he didn't see a reason to live._

_Once, Izaya had been able to be that reason, but like all things, Izaya ruined that._

_It's why he can't call an ambulance, so he doesn't. It's why he doesn't say what he wants to say to Shizuo, even as the man's eyes close and Izaya's world goes silent except for the quick rasp of his rapid breaths._

_Izaya's world ended when Shizuo's life did._

***

"Izaya, it's not your fault," Shinra said, handing him a cup of coffee. Izaya accepted it silently, took one sip, before putting it down on the coffee table and taking another drag of the cigarette. "There was no way you could have saved him."

Izaya looked away, a stab of hurt and guilt twisting in his chest.

"You don't know that," he said bitterly, touching his free hand to the top of the cat's head. "You weren't there."

"Izaya...stop blaming yourself."

***

_He doesn't know what to say when the authorities arrive, sitting curled up by the unmoving body that was once Shizuo. In the end, he doesn't end up saying anything in the beginning._

_When he's questioned as a witness later, for once he actually tells the truth, just not all of it._

_He found Shizuo in the alley, bleeding out, and then called an ambulance. It was too late by the time they got there._

_That was it, but it wasn't._

_He wished it was._

***

Another silence, another cigarette.

Shinra doesn't try saying any more, just sits quietly across from Izaya with a concerned look as he watches him smoke some more. He doesn't even ask about the cat that seems to have become Izaya's new companion.

Too bad the cat looks like Izaya, but maybe it's better that way.

***

_There's no cloudy skies that day, no pouring rain, no sullen grayness to the world, but to Izaya, the world is colorless, has lost its luster, and become something unrecognizable._

_He stands apart from everyone else, completely retreated into himself and not saying a word. He keeps his face blank even as he hears the accusatory whispers and wary glances from the rest of the crowd._

_They're wrong this time, but they don't know that and they wouldn't believe it even if he told them, so there's no point even trying._

_It's not his fault this time, he didn't kill Shizuo, but he didn't save him either._

_He's guilty either way. He let Shizuo die._

***

The coffee goes cold just like his heart, but Shinra stays in the room, a silent but persistent presence.

The cat splays out onto his lap sleepily, and he lets it, oddly fond of the small creature. He feels less lonely with the cat there, feels a little lighter, but nothing is ever enough.

***

_He doesn't want to stay at the service any longer, painfully aware of how estranged he is from all the others. He knows they're wondering why he's there, especially since they're convinced he either killed Shizuo himself or got him killed. His bad reputation precedes him, swallowing the existence of Orihara Izaya and making him out to be the bad guy._

_And in a way, he is. Generally, he isn't the best person out there, but it wasn't supposed to be like that with Shizuo._

_He still ruined everything. Nothing else matters._

***

It's quite a while later. Both Shinra and the cat have fallen asleep, one on the armchair across from him, the other half on his lap, half on the couch. He carefully maneuvers the ball of fluff off his lap, getting a disgruntled meow as the cat adjusted its position in its sleep, before standing up and creeping out onto the apartment's balcony.

The dark sky is mostly free from clouds, though a few tufts of gray mark the surface. The air is cool against his skin, untainted originally until it mingles with the smoke of a new cigarette at his lips, lit and burning.

Izaya should probably stop smoking the damned cigarette clutched between two of his trembling fingers as if it was his lifeline, but this is one thing he can't let go.

He doesn't think he'll ever be ready to let go, because letting go means moving on and forgiving himself. He can't do that yet, and maybe he never will be able to.


	2. Never Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He waited, and waited, and waited. Still no one came. The distinct hospital smell of chemicals and disinfectants was heavy in the air, almost suffocating honestly. He had been stabbed, he knew it had been broadcasted, and yet no one- no one- seemed to care."
> 
> ~
> 
> Hanahaki au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: major character death, hanahaki au, based off the ep where izaya is hospitalized, canon divergence, angst, unrequited love, sad ending, no happy ending
> 
>  
> 
> for once, I actually wrote smth short.
> 
> I'm sorry for not posting anything else recently, I've had some major writer's block, and for the Only Fools Know sequel, I want to plan it out fully before writing it. I'll try to finish a chapter for one of my other works soon.

He waited, and waited, and waited. Still no one came. The distinct hospital smell of chemicals and disinfectants was heavy in the air, almost suffocating honestly. He had been stabbed, he  _knew_ it had been broadcasted, and yet no one-  _no one_ \- seemed to care. Not enough to make sure he was okay, not enough to finish him off. He meant  _nothing_ \- he wasn't worth more either dead or alive, he was equally worthless either way. Business partners would find a quick replacement, family would just move on, friends- god, did he even have any?- would live on oblivious, or move on just as quickly, enemies would celebrate for a moment, and then he'd just be a passing dream, or more likely, nightmare.

It would be the same with Shizuo. After all, wasn't it enough that Shizuo hadn't shown up to finally kill him? Wasn't the proof enough that the blonde didn't even care enough to make sure he was dead and gone for good this time?

So it's not when he realizes his feelings- no, that happened long enough ago and he had still never quite given up- but when he realizes he means nothing to Shizuo, that if he were gone, Shizuo wouldn't care less, would probably just mutter good riddance and then go on with his life without a second thought, that a feeling of hopelessness overwhelmed him and he coughed up the first flower. And then another. And then another, and another, and another until a whole sea of bright red petals rippled along the stark white sheets of the hospital bed like a stain that could never be removed and Izaya felt like he couldn't breathe. But he still refused to cry, to break down and show the world such weakness. He still had some of his pride still intact even after he finally accepted that he could never be loved by this world, would never be accepted by it. It still hurt, of course it fucking hurt. As much as he liked to claim otherwise, he was fucking human too, and he had emotions and he  _felt_ things- things like love and hate, fear and excitement. He knew what pain felt like, and now, heartbreak too.

He knew what the flowers meant, of course he did. What kind of information broker would he be if he didn't? He wanted to rip the flowers from his lungs because what was the point of letting himself die if Shizuo wasn't going to care either way?

Still coughing, he stumbled to find a nurse, but strangely found no one anywhere. His vision was blurry, his throat felt constricted, his legs were unsteady. It all became too much all at once, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He fell to the ground, sobbing as flowers fluttered down around him like a halo and he might have laughed bitterly if, for one, he wasn't choking on petals and two, if he wasn't dying. He vaguely curls up in on himself, trying to vanish into the petal-strewn floor and disappear from existence so no one would bear witness to the pitiful fall of a once respected, feared, and prideful informant. But he can't just disappear from this, from his own impending death so he has to lie there as he becomes buried nose deep in sickly sweet smelling flowers, as his throat closes up from the amount of petals trying to expel their way out of his mouth, as his lungs get twisted apart and punctured by the roots and thorns of plants that had been growing for a long time, even if he had never coughed a petal until today.

He laid there on his chest, the hard floor pressing on his ribs and suffocating him even more. The only thing his eyes could see was blood-stained white petals- or maybe they were always red- all across the plain hospital floor. He had to wonder how he hadn't died yet, considering how the flowers must have been built up over time for so many to be spewed out all at once, but the thoughts become meaningless- just a way to pass the last minutes, or seconds, of his life before death finally took him away from his suffering, from his boring, sad existence and did all the world a favor.

He choked on a laugh, his tears bitter at his own fate. How cruel that the world still made sure that he died by Shizuo's hands, only it ended up being in a non-literal sense. It seemed Shizuo would be keeping true to his promise to kill Izaya after all.

By not loving him, as he should and as he did.


	3. Who Was I To Make You Wait?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to chapter 2. Shizuo's reaction to Izaya's death. Written at Luna's request <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Luna.  
> I hope this is satisfactory! I'm not quite satisfied with it, so I may tweak it, but this is what I came up with for now. Whether Shizuo falls in love with Izaya, or already had feelings for him is a little up in the air but...Tell me what you think! Somehow this ended up longer than I expected, but still feels too short...hmm
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3
> 
> tags: major character death (izaya from last chapter only), hanahaki, angst, idk what else to tag rn

The words were printed all over the news, bold letters stuck on the small little TV screen. A female reporter was babbling the details of what happened, but Shizuo couldn't hear a word of it, his ears buzzing as ashes from his lit cigarette fell to the floor unnoticed. It couldn't be true, it had to be a lie. It had to be. His cigarette falls from his lips, and before he's even thinking about what it is he's doing, he has his phone in his hand and he's calling Shinra, Celty— someone, anyone- who can tell him that it's not true. Izaya can't be dead. The news has it all wrong, they just have to be wrong. Izaya is probably pulling the strings from behind, laughing at his little prank because his silly humans would fall for the lie that he was dead— that he'd been stabbed and hospitalized and then had been found dead by a nurse. He flips through several news channels just to find one saying something different while he waits for the call to connect.

He doesn't have any luck and he stops when he hears Shinra's confused, "Hello?", taking in a deep breath as he twists his shoe over the dying cigarette he had dropped in his earlier stupor.

"Hey, have you seen the news?" he asks, fidgeting impatiently for an answer so he lits up another cig just to pass the time.

"News? Ah, Celty and I just got back from our trip so—"

"They're saying Izaya is dead." he interrupts, and Shinra pauses awkwardly. It takes him a minute to gather himself, and when he has, he laughs dryly, nervously.

"Is that so?" Shinra questions, and his voice is breathy, but almost uncaring. "Well, isn't that great for you, Shizuo? Now he won't be bothering you anymore and—"

"This isn't fucking funny, Shinra," Shizuo snarls, once again cutting off the rambling doctor. "Izaya's your friend, isn't he? If he's really dead—"

"Wait, really dead? Shizuo, you didn't kill him?"

"Of course not," Shizuo snaps mindlessly, and then realizes his mistake. "He was stabbed, so he was hospitalized. He probably died of blood loss or whatever it's called. He might have lived if you'd been around."

"Shizuo, you— You don't hate Izaya? Why aren't you happy about his death? Haven't you always wanted him dead?" Shinra pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. In all honesty, his heart was sinking. He knew how Izaya felt— had felt, now, he supposed- about Shizuo, so he was certain that Izaya hadn't died from the stab wound, but from Hanahaki. He had tried to warn Izaya about it, but the informant had always dismissed him, saying he would never have, or succumb, to such a "pathetic disease". Which is why Shinra was confused, there was no way Izaya would just lay down and die because of his one-sided feelings for Shizuo, so what happened?

"Shinra," Shizuo sounds frustrated, and he is. He's not sure himself what has him so worked up, but maybe it has to do with the situation just feeling wrong. Something was up, and he didn't know what it was. But maybe Shinra knows, and it's with that in mind that he asks, "What do you know? You know something, don't you?". His tone is a little deeper, sharper than he intended it to be, but it seems to do the trick. He hears Shinra take a sharp inhale, and then the underground doctor sighs.

"I suppose there's no point in keeping it from you now if Izaya really...," this time, Shinra chokes up, finally revealing that he is affected. For as suave and blasé as he might try to appear, he really did care for Izaya, and he had always wanted Shizuo and Izaya to get along. It was a simple wish the world just couldn't grant. Shizuo feels strangely relieved to hear the emotion in Shinra's voice, but he also feels vaguely betrayed when his suspicion about the doctor knowing something is confirmed. "Really is dead, but..."

Shinra hesitates, both unsure how to phrase it and how Shizuo would take to the information. Sure, they were in call and not in the same room, but that fact could easily be changed. Shizuo presses him though, and he relents, dropping his shoulders in defeat. He shouldn't have said anything, and yet—

"He...what?" Shizuo's jaw drops, mind going blank.

Shinra gnaws his lip. "He liked you, I think he died because—"

"He liked me? You mean, romantically?" Shizuo repeats, dumbfounded. He wants to stomp to whatever hospital Izaya was at and shake some sense into his ex-archenemy, but he couldn't. It was too late, he already had to accept the reality of the situation, even with his emotions spiraling into confusion at his reaction to this information. There had been no glee, no elation, no relief— only shock and horror like he'd been slapped in the face.

"Yes," Shinra snaps, sounding testy. He was annoyed at Shizuo for interrupting him. "As I was saying, I think he died from Hanahaki, not the stab wound. And in case you didn't know Hanahaki is—"

"Unrequited feelings," Shizuo interrupts again. Shinra can't really feel angry this time. Shizuo had a more valid reason to cut him off. "I know...I know but— but it just doesn't make sense."

"Well then, why don't you check and see for yourself?"

"What?"

"Go to the hospital, and find out how he died. I think they're trying to cover that fact up." Shinra elaborates, though he doesn't explain who exactly is trying to bury the truth.

Shizuo ponders this silently, debating it over in his head before he concedes with:

"I'll think about it," and then he hangs up, already fully intending to see Izaya again before his body gets taken away. The whole incident had made a realization hit him too late—

I don't really hate him.

And maybe, maybe, he never did. (And maybe, maybe, he felt something else instead).

***

There's no reason for the receptionist to tell him what room Izaya was in, but she does anyway. What Shizuo doesn't know is that she was intimidated by him, and probably knew of him, and his relationship with Izaya. He plods up to the room, and then he sees them. Red petals strewn all across the room— or maybe they had been white flowers stained crimson by blood, he doesn't look close enough to tell- but there are also a few sparse blue flowers. Roses, to be precise. It's sickening— how romantic and beautiful a death can seem even knowing it is anything but painless, even knowing it is a tragedy.

Izaya is not there, the only evidence of his existence is the proof of his death scattered across the room like a motionless sea, rippled only by a slight breeze creeping in through the window. He's gone just like that— vanished in thin air like smoke, life escaping from his lungs as every breath is strangled in his throat with petals blocking his airway. It's saddening, watching the petals swirl across the plain polished flooring of the hospital room. There's a prickle in Shizuo's chest, right where his heart is, and there's a sting at his eyes, where unidentifiable liquid wells up.

No one is there to see his sorrow breaking out across his face, not a nurse or a doctor, and definitely not Izaya himself. Never had he imagined he would feel this way about Izaya's death. Izaya's death, for as much as he thought he wished for it, was something he had never realistically imagined happening. Izaya, whom was so elusive, so free, should always remain so— an entity to which he would give chase, seeking after him even knowing he was unobtainable.

He bites his lip, he feels a sigh escape him along with something he can't name. His shoulders sag down, his fingers twitch for a cigarette. He gives in, still staring down at the scene before him as he lights up the stick, taking in a shaky inhale of the smoke.

"I'm sorry, Izaya," he breathes out, a soft whisper of confession for no other ears to hear. "I guess I was too late."

**Author's Note:**

> (Tbh my fav line is ‘Izaya’s world ended when Shizuo’s life did’ bc I’m weak for dramatic lines like that and I’m sorry bc there are so many in this)


End file.
